Urban Jungle
by Gone2GroundEX
Summary: The capital city of the Maiden World is under siege, and an Imperial Guard sniper is given one man to kill: The Eldar Autarch Dars'Berrthel. A Maiden World Story.
1. Chapter 1

**Urban Jungle**

Range, four hundred meters. Target, Mon'keigh officer. No force field, simple carpace armor. Barbaric. No helmet – stupidity.

Wind speed – 2 miles an hour to the west. Bullet drop: Negligible. Obstructions: Five basic troopers – maybe aides?

Doesn't matter. The Exile took a careful look down his scope, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The stock of his rifle pushed back gently against his braced shoulder, and the Mon'keigh commander slumped to the side, a small hole in his right temple. His adjujants leapt into confused action, but the Exile was already away.

He crept through the ruined buildings, keeping his back to the wall at all times. An armored Mon'keigh patrol almost caught him, but he managed to avoid their lights and confused glances. He needed to find his next target.

In the distance, he saw two of his own kind standing in the open together when one slumped to the ground, a smoking hole in his head. A Mon'keigh sniper? Fascinating. He's good. Let's see how good...

Keeping to cover, the Exile moved swiftly and carefully as he followed the Guardian's footsteps, nodding in approval at the sight of him killing a Mon'keigh child.

_They shall pay for what they have done to our world._

There was no sign of the Sniper, until the Guardian's throat was blown out by a round and he slumped into the concrete floor. The Sniper descended and began to loot the Guardian's body. The Exile's eyes widened in outrage as he saw what the Sniper had taken from his fellow Eldar's corpse.

_Spirit stones? Isha, **NO**!_

The Exile fired quickly, instantly regretting his rash decision as his shot went wild by almost a meter. The Sniper flinched and rolled into cover, his cloak blending into the piles of rubble littering the streets.

The Exile groaned and rose, shouldering his rifle in favor of a short mono-knife. He'd slit the Sniper's throat and reclaim those Spirit Stones, where they shall be rejoined with their Craftworld's Infinity Circuit. He may have exiled himself many centuries ago, but he owed his former home that much at least.

The Sniper was good, he'd give the Mon'keigh that. But it would be impossible for a Mon'keigh to defeat an Eldar Ranger in a stealth mission.

The Exile's arrogance was what led to his own shock when a las-round smashed through his thigh, dropping him. Gasping in pain, the Exile rolled into cover. _Impossible. Where is-_

"Hey." The Sniper said with a grin. The Exile sprang over, raising his knife to throw, when the second Long-Las round was fired point-blank into his face.

The Sniper sighed, lowered his rifle, and moved along. Only this block was secure, the battle was still raging in other parts of the city.

He had to stay vigilant. He kept low, and kept moving. He saw two of the open-topped Eldar vehicles – their pilots exposed to his fire – strafing the sky with missiles and las fire. He raised his long-las, measured the distance, and fired two shots at the first War Walker. The pilot slumped into his controls, causing the walker to suddenly run forwards, its weapons firing at its feet, knocking the other one over. The Sniper shielded his eyes from the series of white flashes that followed as the Eldar's technology destroyed itself.

Huddling down, he saw the remanants of an Eldar Guardian squad attempt to retrieve their fallen comrade's corpses. He raised his rifle and aimed at the one in the flowing robes – probably the leader, if the Xenos had any similarities to Humans at all.

The Warlock raised his head in the Sniper's direction, making him frown.

"What are you looking at - " He whispered, and then white lightning exploded from the Warlock's hand and smashed the area he was sitting in a few seconds before.

"Holy Throne!" The Sniper cursed, scrabbling back. "Psyker!"

He got on his vox and started babbling into the general communications channel. "Confirmed psyker on corner of 4th and Sanguinius! I repeat, confirmed psyker on corner of 4th and Sanguinius! Requesting immediate assistance!"

The Sniper scrambled away from his ledge as confused acknowledgements came through his micro-bead. He turned it to max volume and threw it in the opposite direction he was fleeing in. As he hoped, the Guardians turned towards the noise and he made his escape back into a different building.

The psyker was someone else's problem. He'd find something else to shoot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Urban Jungle**

Night fell over the city, and with it came the Sniper's greatest fear. His own night vision goggles had been destroyed the day before, shorted out by the electrical storm the Eldar psyker had thrown in his general direction. Without them, he was at a clear disadvantage. The cold didn't help much either.

The Sniper kept his long-las close to his chest and tried to control his breathing. Over the course of two days, the city had been almost completely destroyed. The only buildings still intact was the PDF complex, and that had fallen to the first Xenos attack and turned into their forward base. As much as he hated to admit it, he was fairly sure that the Xenos were winning the fight for the city. From what he'd heard over the abandoned and crippled vox-set he'd found lying in this building, the reports from the rest of the planet were rather grim. Tanks that could destroy Baneblades, psykers that overwhelmed entire squads of Imperial Sanctioned Psykers, fliers faster than their tools could read and a demon made of fire. Requests for reinforcements were coming in from every channel, but none were coming.  
The Sniper groaned and caught himself almost falling asleep. If he did, one of the Xenos scum would find his sleeping body and slit his throat.

He downed a swig of day-old caffiene from his thermos and, grimacing at the foul taste, busied himself with cleaning his long-las. Two hot-shot packs remained, meaning only around fourty more shots – and that was assuming they were fully charged. He vaguely remembered switching one pack out for another just to be on the safe side, back when the Imperium had a clear upper hand in this fight.

Then the Xenos deployed their air force...and a titan. The Sniper looked through a nearby window and scowled at the rapidly moving behemoth. Nothing that big should move that fast – foul Xenos technosorcery, to be sure. Catching something in the streets below, he quickly re-assembled his long-las and snapped one of his remaining power packs into it, slipping the other into his belt.

It was the Xeno psyker from before, and he had been looking right at him.

**  
The Warlock frowned. His telepathy net that Farseer Qulloth had taught him how to create before departing alerted him to the thoughts of all living beings in a decent radius, and there had certainly been something in that building. Its thoughts were too wild to be a Ranger, yet too structured for a civilian. In fact, there was something about its focus on survival that reminded him of...

Yes, this was the same Mon'keigh that had destroyed the two War Walkers the day before. He waved his Guardian squad forwards and raised his Witchblade to his mouth, whispering a prayer.

"Khaela Mensha Kaine..."

**  
The Sniper burst onto what was left of the building's roof and ran towards the edge. He just managed to make a jump to the adjacent building, its roof crumbling beneath him and dropping him down a floor. Coughing and wincing, the Sniper pulled himself back up.

"So much for subtlety..."

If the Xenos hadn't noticed him, he would have heard that for sure. Time to get out of here. He burst out of the residential complex's balcony onto the emergency staircase leading down to the street, and ran as fast as he could. A loud shout alerted him to a presence, and he turned around and dropped to his knees, raising his long-las to a firing position. A burst of small metal stars, launched from the Xeno's strange rifle, slashed through the air where his head was a few seconds ago. His return shot smashed through the Xeno's chest and sent him flying backwards several paces. He was already running again before the Eldar's body had even hit the ground. Another volley of shuriken scraped his arm, causing a brief gasp of pain as the Sniper turned a corner, hoping beyond hope for something to go his way for once.

He saw an abandoned Chimera, scorched corpses of fellow Guardsmen everywhere, and he grinned. Perfect.

**  
The Warlock and his men turned the corner, and were greeted by the sight of many dead Mon'keigh and a crippled vehicle. He frowned – these corpses were old, and his telepathy net told him that the Mon'keigh was still here. But then where-

The Sniper grinned from underneath the most intact corpse he could find, and took aim at the pile of grenades he'd left on the city corner. His long-las bucked pleasently, and the resulting fireball enveloped the Xenos squad. He scrambled up and ran away, knowing that if any lived he wouldn't stand a chance in straight combat.

**  
The Warlock had barely manged to get his kinetic barriers up in time to save himself from the explosion, and he was still knocked off his feet by the shockwave. His squad wasn't so luck, with most incinerated by the fireball, some with their ribs crushed by the air pressure and the last with a piece of shrapnel through his eyepiece. He staggered to his feet and swore vengeance upon the Mon'keigh sniper, and began to collect his fallen comrade's spirit stones to return them to the infinity circuit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Urban Jungle**

On the fourth day of the battle, the Sniper ran out of food. On the eighth day, desperate and hungry, he resorted to looting an abandoned market in an attempt to find something, but the Xenos had torched everything inside, as if knowing someone would find it useful. Stomach growling and knees weakening, with no way to communicate with the remaining Imperial forces – if there were any – in the city, and only one hotshot pack left, the Sniper began to seriously consider suicide before deciding to take as many of the Xenos with him as he could.

He wandered outside carefully, checking the corners and keeping low as he dashed to the other side of the street, his vision growing dark from hunger, thirst and sleep deprivation. He leaned on the wall for support and moved to the next turn, hands shaking so much he had to turn the safety of his long-las on lest he shoot himself in the foot. Turning the corner, he broke into a relieved grin. The Emperor must have smiled down on him today.

He raised a hand and began to shakily walk towards the platoon he'd just found, but he only made it three steps before crumbling to the ground and finally letting sleep claim him.

* * *

"Name?"  
The Sniper managed to stop eating for long enough to answer. "Marksman Iano, sir. 23rd Manrodian Shock Troops."

The captain stared at him through his monocle, the scout-pattern Salamander stowed away inside a collapsed building and hidden underneath an over sized camo-cloak. "The Inferno's?"

"That is the nickname of the regiment, sir, yes." The Sniper found himself engrossed in his meal. It was just dehydrated bean paste, but after three days of operating on an empty stomach it tasted like milk and honey.

The captain rummaged through communications logs that his adjutant had provided "You were reported dead after reporting the existence of an Eldar Warlock on the corner of 4th and Sanguinius. What were your mission parameters?"  
"Standard operating procedure for Inferno marksmen, sir. Deploy ahead of the main force on a solo mission to take out targets of opportunity and other VIP's." The Sniper replied in a monotone. "Our dropship landed first, a stealth variant. Then the Xenos air force deployed and-"  
"Entire regiment wiped out by three Nightwing interceptors before landing, yes." The Captain mused. "Marksman, I'm going to give you a choice. You can join my platoon, or we can resupply you and send you back out into the city after some rest."  
The Sniper's reply was instantaneous. "I'd like to return to the field, sir."

"Of course. Corporal Myr, my adjutant, shall debrief you on the current situation on the planet. I'm afraid it's looking rather-"

A sudden scream interrupted the Captain, and was quickly followed by the Salamander's vox blurting out a message. "Xenos troopers! They're already in the ca-"  
A sudden rush of static cut off the rest of the message. The Captain rose to his feet and waved his adjutant forwards, who presented the Sniper with a full backpack. Glancing into it, he found food and water for three days at least and a full medkit, as well as a handful more hotshot packs.

"One last order, Marksman. There is one target that needs to be removed if we are to have any hope of taking the city back?"  
"The titan?" The Sniper replied, snapping a fresh hotshot pack into his long-las. The Captain scowled.  
"Reports say that the Eldar commander wears blue armor with some kind of anti-gravity device in the form of wings. I want you to find and eliminate this target. Understood?"

The Sniper nodded vigorously, turning to leave. "Yes, Sir."

He dashed out of the Salamander to the scene of Xenos soldiers slaughtering the platoon. Raising his long-las, he snapped off one shot and killed the one in the prettiest armor. It seemed like a safe bet. As the Captain emerged, drawing his chainsword and shouting a challenge, the Sniper took off at a dash through a hole in the enemy lines created by a sudden burst of fire from the Salamander's heavy bolter.

He vanished into the city as the Eldar slaughtered his best chance for respite. At least he had a clear goal now – assassinate the Xenos commander.

The question was, where was he?


	4. Chapter 4

**Urban Jungle**

The Sniper grimaced as he pulled the tourniqet shut around his leg. He'd already lost far too much blood already. He slowly tried to stand up and topped over into the wall. Damn. Of all the things to finally lay him low, it had to be a stupid sharp piece of metal sticking out of the wall? It looked like a seperated radiator hose, not that it mattered. He wanted to finish his mission, not bleed out or die of some emperor-forsaken disease.

He wouldn't have been surprised if the Xeno had set it up for him on purpose. Still, he couldn't deny that he should have been paying more attention. Still, he'd had good reason to not be paying attention.  
Yesterday, shortly after midday, the Imperium had clearly decided they'd had enough and smashed the Eldar Titan with an orbital lance straight to the face. The shockwave had wiped out the central city, and knocked the Sniper out. He'd woken up with a massive grin on his face.

That was a sign that they could turn this around. Who knows how many other Xenos could have been killed in that hit? Maybe even his target, but until it was confirmed he'd keep hunting.

The Sniper pulled himself slowly along the wall, wincing as his leg threatened to crumple whenever he put any kind of pressure on it. Thankfully, he didn't see any Xenos nearby. Maybe he'd luck out and find a medicae-

A sudden change in the air pressure and a deep rumbling noise forced the Sniper down on his back, and he let out a cry of pain as he landed on his wounded leg. Scrambling to his feet, he looked up.

The Vengeance Class cruiser heading up the Imperial Navy detachment fell from the skies and landed thousands of miles away, giving the world a second sky. The Sniper felt his heart sink with despair.

_We're losing._

He pulled himself back to his feet and scrambled for cover as Xenos jetbikes ripped overhead. Raising his rifle, he managed to shoot a Vyper out of the sky. Then he realized his own stupidity as the three smaller jetbikes turned around and started strafing his position. He threw himself out a window, plummeting one story and landing on his good leg, shattering it. His world went black for a few seconds, but he forced himself back awake and rolled around, firing his long-las into the sky and plucking two more out of the sky. The final one took three hotshots until the Sniper finally realized what was wrong.

The Warlock lowered his hand, dropping the kinetic shields around his jetbike and reaching out to destroy this Mon'keigh's mind. He was going to enjoy this.

Then something went wrong.  
**

The Sniper grimaced as he felt the Warlock's mind grip on his own. He couldn't die like this. Not like this. He felt as though his brain was being crushed within his skull, and there was fire behind his eyes. A sudden, loud bark intterupted it.

Blinking tears out of his eyes, he opened them to see the wrecked jetbike and the Warlock scrambling out from under it, grabbing his witchblade. He glanced to his left, and..._unbelievable_.

Seven feet tall and bright yellow, the Imperial Fist raised his bolter and fired off a quick three-shot burst at the Warlock, his bolts glancing off of the kinetic fields that the psyker quickly raised. The Sniper rolled to the side, fully aware that this fight had just escalated to a level he could not hope to compete in.

The Imperial fist hurled his empty bolter at the Warlock, where it bounced harmlessly off his shield. He pulled out his combat knife, as long as the Sniper's forearm and twice as wide, and charged forwards with a shout. The Warlock raised his witchblade, hurling forth bolts of lightning that scattered off the Astartes' power armor. He rolled under the combat knife's first swing, his witchblade cutting through the Astartes' back and drawing blood. The sniper raised his long-las and took careful aim, realizing that, heretical as it sounded, the Astartes was the one outclassed here.

**  
The Warlock grabbed the Astartes' helmet from behind, and channeled the power he would require to defeat the oversized Mon'keigh. Calling on the warp, he-

The Sniper lowered his long-las as the Warlock's headless corpse fell to the ground, the gathered warp-lightning scattering randomly. Breathing heavily, he slumped fowards and fainted. The Astartes gathered him up in his arms reverently and marched towards the rest of his squad.

Their Apothecary may be able to help.


	5. Chapter 5

**Urban Jungle**

The Sniper came to underneath a repaired camo-cloak. Panicking slightly, he shrugged it off and stood up, taking in his surroundings. The Astartes was nowhere to be seen, neither was the deceased Warlock. He gingerly took a step forwards, and was surprised when his leg didn't give out under him. He looked down, and was pleased to see the splint that took most of the weight. He could move again, at least.

He didn't know why the Astartes had left him to his own devices, but he'd probably just slow the Angel of Death down. Shrugging to himself, he gathered up his long-las and repaired camo-cloak, ready for another day of moving through the city.

He was approaching what should be, if any intelligence was accurate, the secondary Eldar command post. The first was evaporated in the orbital strike that destroyed the Titan, so if the Autarch was still alive he'd be located here. He slid next to a window on the fifth story building, and scoped out the general area. The strange white building that clearly didn't belong here was surrounded by a flickering force field, and a few dozen Eldar warriors were patrolling back and forth, talking to each other. Moving to the right, his breath caught in his throat as he saw his target, standing in front of a group of winged Aspect Warriors, his own silver-feathered wings standing still even in the heavy wind, a large ebony and ivory device running down the center. His blue armor was studded with those odd Eldar gemstones, and his power sword crackled with energy whenever he slashed. A half-moon of bronze extended from his forearm, with intricate runes glowing softly. The Sniper whistled to himself and put his scope away.

"Fancy." He muttered. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to figure out a way to eliminate his target without bringing all hell down on him afterwards. When the Autarch and his companions rose into the sky, their wings flapping only a few times as the anti-gravity did its work, he scrambled backwards and threw his camo-cloak over himself in panic. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw them head off towards the other side of the city. Frowning, he nodded to himself as a plan drew itself together.

The Autarch fell upon his first victims, a squad of mon'keigh soldiers, his Banshee Mask letting out a shriek that dropped the undisciplines soldiers to their knees. Their commander, his red cloak flapping in the wind, merely winced and raised his chainsword, running towards the Eldar with a shout.

The Autarch's power sword cut the chainsword in half and then decapitated the Commisar in one swing. The remaining conscripts rose to their feet, scrambling for their lasguns, when the Swooping Hawks fell down, lasblasters blazing. Most of them were cut down by their fire, and those that were not were swiftly dispatched by the Autarch and Exarch's power swords. In the few seconds where the Eldar had eliminated the squad, the grenade packs they had dropped during their descent detonated and destroyed their primitive transport.

Nodding, the Autarch raised his sword and they silently ascended once more. The telepathic network set up by the Farseers informed him of the presence of the more dangerous mon'keigh, Astartes they called themselves, nearby. He unlimbered his Reaper Launcher from the center of his wing pack, and armed it while flying. He saw the garish yellow mon'keigh in one buliding, conversing amongst themselves. He slashed down with his power sword, and the Swooping Hawks dropped their remaining grenade packs into the middle of the circle. With speed belying their bulk, the Astartes rolled away, and when they detonated the only casualty was their unfortunate recruits, who's lighter armor proved no use against the high explosives. The Hawks landed in a perfect circle, facing the rising Astartes and firing their lasblasters. The shots rebounded off of the power armor, with only the Exarch's Sunrifle finding a weak point and dropping the white-armored one through sheer volume of fire. The remaining five raised their bolters and returned fire, the shells killing two of the Hawks instantly.

_Now_ The Autarch grinned, emptying his Reaper Launcher into the back of the Heavy Weapons operator before he could bring his Heavy Bolter to bear. He dropped the bulky missile launcher and raised his pistol, firing wantonly as he dived down towards his foe, shrieking. The remaining four astartes turned, unaffected by his screams, and the first died to his power sword's swing. With the Astartes distracted from the Hawks, the Exarch drew his own power sword and joined the Autarch while the remaining Hawks disengaged, understanding that the fight was beyond their league.

The Autarch crouched slightly, staring impassively at the Astartes, who began to mutter some kind of prayer beneath their breath. He offered up his own worship to Khaela Mensha Khaine, and moved forward. The lead Astartes leapt to meet him, his combat knife blurring towards his face at a speed even the Eldar had to admit was impressive.

Against the Autarch, however, it was useless.

Where the Astartes was a blur, the Autarch appeared not to move at all, with his power sword by his leg at one moment and then in the air the next, the Astartes' combat arm dropping to the floor. Without even a grunt of pain, the Astartes lashed out with his remaining fist, which the Autach bobbed around. He slid underneath the blow, and impaled the Astartes through the back of his neck, flicking his wrist to decapitate the soldier. His power sword hissed as blood evaporated on the power field, and he turned to face his remaining opponents, who brought their bolters to bear.

The loud and barbaric mon'keigh weaponry barked repeatedly, and the shells flickered off of the Autarch's power shield. The runes on his wrist generator glowed blue, a sign that they were approaching critical mass, and the Autarch sighed, running forwards. The Exarch swooped down to join the fight as well, but one of the Astartes saw him coming and downed the power sword wielding Hawk with a quick burst of bolter rounds.

The Autarch was displeased at this action. That Astartes died first, and the rest quickly followed. The blood-lust falling from his mind, the Autarch rose from his crouch and clutched the Exarch's bloodied spirit stones to his chest.  
"Shea nudh Asuryanish ereintha Asuryanat."

___May the blessings of Asuryan protect the children of Asuryan from abomination_

_A pair of Swooping Hawks retrieved the corpse, which would be stripped for the Exarch Armor later. The unspoken agreement between them caused their return to base._

_**  
The Sniper looked up for the tenth time in twenty minutes, almost dropping his spoon when he saw the Hawks return. Quickly screwing the top back onto his canteen of pasta, he raised his long-las and took a deep breath._

___Endgame._


End file.
